


Clean

by FireflysLove



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bucky gets his plums at last, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6846025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireflysLove/pseuds/FireflysLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Rumlow begins a scorched earth policy that sets its blame squarely at Steve's feet, the Cap squad must stop him before he gets his hands on the prize he really wants.</p>
<p>Bucky.</p>
<p>Or, the fic that ignores CW and instead gives me the Stucky filled Cap 3 we all deserved. <br/>(Complete with non-icky Sharon, Bucky's plums, and no Tony)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clean

It’s six months since Ultron when the first hint of Crossbones comes across Steve’s desk. He looks at the blurry footage and swears. Brock fucking Rumlow will be the bane of his existence until the man is exterminated. And Steve has no doubt that it’s going to come to that, no matter what Captain America might say, Steve’s out for Rumlow’s blood.

The explosion is small by Avengers standards, but Steve still takes the entire team to Rio to investigate. It’s a remote warehouse that was leveled, not much of value in it, just a few rusted out cars. It seems like an odd target for Rumlow to strike, given the kind of contracts he’s known to take.

Then Steve sees the charred remains of a barber’s chair. A piece of paper rests on it, and Steve steps forward to pick it up.

_I’ll get there first_ is all it says. Steve nearly crumples it in his hand before thinking better of it. He passes it roughly to the nearest Avenger, Rhodey, and stalks out of the shell of the warehouse to glare at the sky.

It isn’t like Rumlow is going to fall out of it, but there’s something satisfying in the futile motion anyway.

“We should go,” Nat says, coming up behind him.

“I know,” Steve says. “But he’s fucking _taunting_ us. Taunting _me_.”

“Do you know where he is?” Nat asks. She’s not asking about Rumlow.

“The last time I talked to Sharon, she said there were rumors about him somewhere in Eastern Europe, but…” Steve trails off.

“But you want to let him come to you,” Nat finishes. It’s not the first time they’ve had this conversation.

“But now I might have to go find him. If nothing else, it’ll lead us to Rumlow,” Steve says.

Nat raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

The quinjet ride back to the Complex is filled with strained silence, and Wanda practically bolts off as soon as it lands.

Steve doesn’t talk to anyone for the rest of the day, taking most of his feelings out on a reinforced punching bag.

 

There’s another explosion and a chair with a cryptic note in Nigeria two weeks later.

This one says simply _Haha._

Steve does rip this one to shreds.

 

The incursion of giant snails in Hawaii distracts him for a while, the things are nearly twice his height. It’s always one disaster after another, but that’s the way of Steve’s life. Ultron was right about one thing, Steve doesn’t know how to live without war. So he doesn’t try to, not anymore. Unless…

Unless Bucky asks it of him.

For Bucky, Steve would give up anything.

But that’s a worry for the future, or so Steve thinks then.

 

A year after Ultron, true disaster strikes.

Rumlow bombs a school in Bucharest, killing three people. Even worse, he leaves a _manifesto_ this time, explaining why he has done these things, placing all the blame solely at Steve’s feet.

So Steve goes to Bucharest. He plans to go alone, but Sam and Nat both insist on going, it’s been their fight since the bridge in DC, and they’re all Steve has for family now, so they come with him.

It’s a bright spring day, and they’re all dressed in civilian clothing, hoodies and baseball hats and sunglasses to conceal their faces. They approach the site of the bombing, cordoned off, and peer through the gathered crowd. The police have the place on lockdown and there’s no way any of them are getting through in broad daylight.

So they come back at night, when the police presence is thinner.

It’s the same blast pattern as in Rio and Nigeria, but this time there is no chair at the center of the blast. If there ever was one, it has been removed. A spotlight sweeps over, but they’re all hidden by the time it passes by. Nothing much more to be learned here, it was Rumlow’s bomb, but there’s no other distinguishing marks or things to point him in the right direction, so they leave.

They stay in a hotel under false names, but Steve doesn’t use the bed.

Rumlow has innocent blood on his hands again, and this time he’s trying to blame it on Steve. Steve knows he’s not innocent of a lot of things, but he has never killed _children._ He stops pacing the room just before dawn, and hauls on a pair of tight running shorts and shirt before going downstairs and out the door. He’s not familiar with Bucharest, but something draws him in a particular direction.

He runs aimlessly through the streets, the unfamiliar terrain beating thoughts of Rumlow out of his head until all he can feel is the thump of his feet on cobblestones and pavement and all he can hear is his heartbeat. He finds himself in a market then, the farmers hauling in yesterday’s pickings and displaying them for customers. Steve slows, he has a few leu on him, and the fruit looks particularly enticing. He’s about to pick up an apple when he sees a display of plums, and goes over to them, turning one over in his hand.

His hand bumps the customer next to him, a man with a baseball hat pulled low over his forehead and long hair obscuring his face. There’s something strange about the man’s hand when Steve bumps it, but Steve thinks nothing of it, until the man says something in Romanian to the stall owner, and gently tests a plum for ripeness. There’s a faint _whirr_ that Steve’s only heard one place in his life, and he has to stop himself from grabbing the hand. The man buys his plums, and Steve buys one just as a cover, now thoroughly distracted.

He follows the man, not even trying to be subtle about it. It would be pointless, given what he’s pretty sure.

They end up in an alley between two apartment buildings when the man whirls around and chucks the bag of plums at Steve.

Steve catches them, careful not to bruise them, but by the time he gets his head back up, Bucky’s gone again.

Steve swears loudly, then glances down, regarding the plums with interest.

He returns to the hotel and changes back into normal clothes, then puts the plums in a small insulated bag he bought on his way back to the hotel, and tells Sam and Nat that he’s “going out”.

They both look like they know exactly where he’s going, but Steve doesn’t say anything. He wanders back through Bucharest to the district with the farmer’s market and sits on a bench, waiting.

It seems like hours before he sees him, although the large clock on the bank across the street indicates it’s only been 40 minutes.

They make eye contact then, and Bucky flinches like Steve’s going to hurt him. Steve doesn’t move. Bucky stops and seems to collect himself, then gestures minutely for Steve to follow him.

**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr.](http://fireflyslove.tumblr.com)


End file.
